


Human Touch

by Silex



Category: Prototype (Video Games)
Genre: Biting, Body Horror, F/M, Ignores P2, Infected Characters, Not exactly incest, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/pseuds/Silex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex is terrified of losing Dana and does the only thing he can think of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Choice

It was a moment of weakness. That’s what it all came down to in the end, one single moment in a long chain of moments leading up to that point. He had been watching Dana as she fell asleep, sinking from restless dreams into a deep, still sleep. If not for her slow, regular breathing he would have thought that she was dead. The way she curled up made her look so small, so vulnerable.

Earlier they’d been talking about getting off of Manhattan. It had been their only consistent topic of conversation for weeks now, the only one that felt really safe for either of them. Still, even it held dangers. Every plan he could think of involved some risk, getting attacked by remaining infected, discovered by the military, shot, captured, separated for any of those reasons, and countless other worst case scenarios that they’d managed to come up with together. What he didn’t want to mention was that he would be able to get out of any of them with little difficulty, she was the one in danger.

Ignoring the logistics of getting off the island, what would come next was still a problem. Dana wanted to stay in the states or at the absolute farthest go north to Canada. He wanted South America or Eastern Europe to be their goal because there were plenty of places for a person who knew what they were doing to safely disappear there. She didn’t like the reasons he gave for the places he suggested, making it a dangerous topic.

Further problems existed past that. Despite what she claimed, Dana wasn’t willing to cut off all ties and start a new life from scratch. Getting her to hide and stay hidden would be impossible. She was already trying to get him to help her brainstorm ways to reestablish contact with her friends and spread the news about what Blackwatch and GenTek had done. No matter how he tried he couldn’t make her see how unreasonable she was being, that trying to clear his name was a lost cause. All he wanted to do at this point was keep her safe, a goal that was mutually exclusive with what she wished to accomplish.

She was too fragile for her ambitions, that was the root of the problem. She acted like she was invincible and never gave any thought to harm befalling her, unless it was to counter his suggestions about what to do once they left Manhattan. When he suggested they find some place in the middle of nowhere and build a cabin, staying careful to remain cut off from everything and everyone she would talk about they could starve if they didn’t get enough food, how if one of them were to get sick there would be no one to help them, how they could get lost in the woods, attacked by wild animals, freeze in the winter and so on. Except none of that would be a danger for him, just for her. She was right that he could never keep her totally out of danger, but that didn’t make him wrong for wanting to keep her safe as best as he could. It was something they clearly weren’t able to see eye to eye on which pained him to no end.

Knowing that in the long run accidents could still happen, unforeseen events could still conspire against them, was agony to him. She was the world to him, his sole connection to humanity and the only thing he had ever truly cared about. To lose her would be to lose everything. If something did ever happen to her he would…he had no idea, it was that unthinkable.

And now, watching how still she was when she slept he found himself gripped by terror. It was too easy to think about her not waking up again in the morning. She was young and healthy, there was nothing wrong with her, but people died without any reason all the time. He had memories of men and women her age or younger even, dropping dead out of nowhere for no reason. As much as she meant to him there was nothing that made her any different from any of them.

Just seeing her asleep was unnerving. He wasn’t able to sleep, though he’d tried. Oh how he’d tried. All he could do was think and he already had too much time to think. When Dana wasn’t awake or around his thoughts, without fail, would return to her, how there were so many things that could happen to her that he would be powerless to stop. He had plenty of time to consider that she was the entirety of his world and that his world was impossibly small and fragile. He knew how delicate a person was, how easy it was to do irreparable damage.

She moved in her sleep, gripped the blankets tightly and moaned as though in profound agony. The sound tore at him, made him long to reach out and comfort her, but if he were to wake her, as he had in the past she would stare at him with an expression of sleepy confusion, having no recollection of what dreams might have caused her to make such a sound. Sure enough she balled the blankets up against her chest and fell back into a restful sleep.

That was even worse in its own way. What if she never woke up? What if she did and something terrible happened to her tomorrow? What if?

Clutching the ball of blankets she had made Dana whimpered, a piteous sound.

It was too much for him.

That was the moment of weakness, not his not entirely. It was something they shared through whatever bond there was between them. She still thought of him as her brother and he had done nothing to explain the truth to her. He felt terrible for his lie of omission, but what would happen if he were to tell her? She might want nothing to do with him, and that was fine. There were ways for him to watch over her without her knowing, but it would make things so much harder.

He had to act now before it was too late.

Standing up as quietly as he could, not that it was going to make any difference in the end, he approached the bed.

There was a moment’s hesitation, just a moment as he paused to brush the hair back from her face. At the gentle touch she muttered sleepily and rolled over. His resolve almost wavered at that small movement. If she had woken up and looked at him it would have been too much and he would have been unable to continue, but she remained asleep. He put his hands on her shoulders as softly as he could and braced himself because if this went wrong…

No, he couldn’t think like that.

If things went wrong in the results would be the same as if he had done nothing at all. Even if Dana survived tomorrow there would still be the next day and the one after that, and so on and so on, each one as full of dread as the previous. Then the days would turn to weeks, weeks to months, months to years until none of it would matter. If he did nothing some day she would be old and he would still be the same as he was now. Eventually she would be dead and he would remain, alone. The quick death of failure or the slow wasting death of senescence would be the same. Death was death, no matter how it came, but he didn’t think that he would fail. The only reason he hadn’t tried before, hadn’t mentioned it as a possibility, was because he was afraid of what her response might be.

He tightened his grip, enough that she woke up and looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. It hurt to see her looking at him that way, but there would be much more pain for both of them before it was over. He hopped that she would understand that, that it would hurt him as well.

She relaxed slightly as she woke up enough to recognize him, “Alex? What are you doing?”

How could he explain? The answer was simple, he wouldn’t. When it was over she would know. Whether or not she understood was another matter. It was a bridge to cross once it was reached.

He dug his fingers into her shoulders until his nails broke the skin.

“Alex!” her voice rose, shrill and frightened as she tried to squirm away, “Stop! You’re hurting me!”

Yes, he was hurting her, he’d known that it would hurt, but for her at least the pain would be purely physical, which he told himself was a mercy.

“Alex!” she screamed and tried to push him away.

He’d heard so many screams that even hers was frighteningly easy to ignore. The blood rising up from the wounds he’d inflicted was impossible to ignore though and nearly caused him to slip and take things too far.

Tendrils rose up and dug in as he struggled to maintain control.

She screamed, clawed ineffectually at his hands as so many had before. This time was going to be different though, this time because it was Dana he would stop before it was too late. Letting go of her shoulders he allowed her to pull away, stretching the tendrils tethering them together. She couldn’t break free from them and he couldn’t release her. For a frantic moment they remained locked together until he shifted his hands into claws and cut them apart.

She fell back on the bed, screaming and writhing in pain as the tendrils continued to move on their own, digging in deeper and spreading. There was blood everywhere as she clawed at herself, trying to pull out the worm like traces of matter burrowing into her.

He wanted to look away from what he had done, but he forced himself to watch. It was the least he could do.

Her skin writhed as things moved beneath it and he noted with equal measure of satisfaction and distress that claws had burst through the tips of her fingers, leaving deep gouges in her skin as she tried to tear away the invading matter.

Screams faded to gurgles as blood poured from injuries, both self-inflicted and the ones he had caused, and eventually she grew still, the only sounds in the room her increasingly ragged breathing. Through it all she looked accusingly up at him, her eyes full of fear and pain.

Eventually the bleeding stopped, injuries closed at through they had never been there at all. The claws remained though, and when he approached the bed they grew longer and she shook her head, wordlessly begging him to stay away.

Not taking her eyes off of him she choked and gasped and finally managed to croak out two words, “Alex…why…”

“I had to,” he smiled sadly, “It was the only way to keep you safe, to make sure nothing could happen to you. Please try to understand.”

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not understanding, “What did you…”

As she spoke she tried to push herself up into a sitting position. In the process she caught sight of her hands.

Irregular patches of black armor began to creep up her arms.

“You didn’t…”

She stared at herself, at her hands, each finger now ending in an off-white bone spike two inches long. The changes sped up in response to her growing distress.

“Dana, calm down,” he urged gently, taking a step forward.

The armor reached her shoulders, irregular spines rising up there.

“No! Stay away from me!” she screamed and tried to leap from the bed, only to fall, tangled in the bloodstained bedsheets.

“Let me help,” he bent down to try and disentangle her, only to narrowly avoid being clawed across the face.

Without thinking he grabbed her wrist.

“Let go of me!” unable to make a fist due to her claws she pounded open-palmed against his chest.

She was still too weak to do any real harm to him, but the intent behind the futile blows hurt just as badly as any actual injury he’d received.

Reaching her chest the armor slowed its spread her ribs standing out in stark relief as the skin over them hardened. Halfway down her chest the spread stopped, her body lacking the mass to fuel further changes. She struggled in his grip, trying to twist away, screaming and cursing at him the entire time.

Realizing that his being there was only making matters worse he let go and backed away towards the door. He’d give her time to recover and come to terms with what she was now.

At least he knew that she’d be safe until then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally based on a request on a forum I go to. I liked the idea and kept working on it. There's not going to be a regular update schedule to this, I'll just be posting more when I get ideas.


	2. Return

His first impression upon opening the door was that the apartment was even more of a mess than he remembered it being. If not for the fact that he could hear Dana rummaging around in the kitchen he would have been worried. For a time he stood there, listening to the sound of cabinets being opened and slammed shut, boxes and cans falling to the floor and furniture being kicked aside. Above all else he could hear her ragged breathing and the occasional sob.

It had been three days since he had done what was necessary to save her and he couldn’t help wondering if he should have come back sooner. Maybe he should have ignored her demand that he leave and stayed with her through the first night, helping her and guiding her. Then he remembered the fear and pain in her eyes, the look of utter betrayal she had given him as she realized what had happened. Giving her time to herself had been necessary and three days had probably been long enough.

He stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him because Dana always yelled at him for forgetting to close it. That he remembered this time was proof that he was being considerate, something she’d hopefully recognize. He was trying, he really was.

The noises in the kitchen ceased. There was one last clatter as an open tin of something fell, its contents splattering across the counter, or maybe the floor.

“Who’s there?”

Her voice was shrill, on the edge of hysteria.

“Take it easy, it’s just me,” he tried to reassure her, but his words were met with a howl of rage. The sound was so unexpected, so unnerving, that he rushed into the kitchen convinced that, despite his best efforts and seeming success, something had gone wrong.

The kitchen was in even worse shape than the rest of the apartment, the table and chairs shattered and pushed aside. All the cabinets were open, the doors actually having been torn off of several of them. Open and discarded cans and boxes littered the room, and in the middle of it all Dana was standing there, staring at him.

She was perfectly fine, visibly thinner than she’d been when he’d left and breathing like she’d just run from one end of the island to the other, but otherwise she was fine.

“Go away,” her eyes narrowed as she spoke and he could see the skin and muscle of her arms twitching as claws began to form at the tips of her fingers.

“Dana, I –”

She wasn’t listening to him, she wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Instead she was looking at her hands, watching as they writhed and changed.

The process was slow, nowhere near as fluid as it was with him. In fact, it looked like she was struggling to even get claws to form. She’d managed fairly well three days ago when she’d yelled at him to leave, but now it seemed like the simple shift and redistribution of mass was more than she could manage.

“What’s wrong?” he took a step closer as she took a step back. She was clearly terrified, but so was he. Something had gone wrong and he’d hurt her.

“You did this to me,” tears were running down her face. From how red and swollen her eyes were it was clear that she’d been crying for a long while, “You did this.”

He continued coming closer and she continued backing away until there was nowhere left for her to go. Her back hit the wall and she slumped to the floor.

“I did what I had to,” he knelt down next to her and she covered her face with her still shifting hands, “I had to keep you safe.”

When he reached out for her she feebly batted at his hands, half formed claws unable to break his skin, even though he did nothing to defend himself. Ignoring her attempts to push him away, he put an arm over her shoulders, wincing at how bony they felt. There was no doubt about it, she had lost weight, “I’m sorry Dana, I really am. If there was any other way…”

She tensed when he pulled her into a hug, but made no attempt to resist, instead she turned her head away so she didn’t have to look at him.

“You did this to me,” she repeated her earlier accusation between sobs, “You should be sorry.”

“Believe me, I am,” he struggled to find the right words, “I’m sorry I had to hurt you, but it was the only way to keep you safe. I can’t always be there for you and if something happened to you while I was away, if you were ever captured and used to get to me I’d never be able to forgive myself. I had to do it to keep you safe, please try to understand that.”

He could feel her shaking and he held her tight, waiting for it to pass. When he realized that it wasn’t going to he kept talking, “Just look at it this way, you’re safe now and nothing can hurt you. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“No.”

There was such finality in her one word reply that he found himself at a loss for words.

“Nothing’s right,” she continued, saving him from the struggle of trying to figure out what to say, “Look at me,” she pushed away from him and held up her hands, “Look at what you did to me!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he took her hands in his and tried his best at giving her a reassuring smile, “You’ll get used to it, I did.”

“No,” she shook her head violently, “No I won’t.”

“Just give it a chance.”

“No,” no longer shaking, she looked around the ruined kitchen, “I’m dying. You killed me.”

“No I didn’t,” he laughed despite himself. He might have hurt her, but she wasn’t dying and he hadn’t killed her.

She flailed her way out of his arms and slapped him across the face. It didn’t hurt, but it shocked him enough that she was able to get away and stand up.

“Yes you did!” she turned in a slow circle as though seeing the mess around her for the first time, “Since you…since you left I’ve been starving. I ate and ate, but nothing…I ate myself sick and I was still hungry. I feel like shit, I’m hungry all the time, I haven’t slept at all because of how fucking miserable I feel.”

“Dana…I…” he looked around the kitchen, at all the packages of half eaten and discarded food, “I’ll get you something to eat and then we can talk. You’ll feel better then, trust me.”

“Are you listening to me?” she stomped after him as he walked out of the kitchen, “I told you that I’ve been eating since you left and all it did was make me sick!”

She kept yelling, getting louder and louder, but he was already in the stairwell and heading to the roof.

He really should have come back earlier, but there was no time to dwell on that, not when the solution to the current problem was so easy. Once Dana had a proper meal she was bound to feel better and then she’d listen to him, then he could get her to understand. He could show her that it wasn’t all bad, he’d take her to the rooftops and they could look out over the city. He’d show her what she was capable of and he was sure she’d enjoy it. She was so much stronger, faster, more durable than she’d been and when she realized it she was bound to feel the same sense of relief that he had when she realized nothing could hurt her anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but it was fun to write. I've got at least one more on the way.


	3. Autophagy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A switch to Dana's point of view as she considers what's happened to her and Alex's continued efforts to help.

Dana sat on the sofa trying to read. She’d given up on finding anything useful online and had decided to take a break from it all. Reading was relaxing, something she did for fun, except she couldn’t relax, couldn’t lose herself in the world of the story because it was starting to get dark out. It wasn’t too dark to read, not yet even though the power had finally gone out for good in the apartment building. She could see just fine, even in the dark. Her eyes had changed.

Everything about her had changed.

That was what she was trying to avoid thinking about. Everything had changed since the night she’d woken up to Alex attacking her.

The pain had been unbearable, but what came next had been worse, watching the flesh and bones of her hands melt and twist into claws, spines and leathery organic armor rising up in patches on her arms. She’d screamed at him to leave and he had, then she screamed and cried until the panic faded as much as it was going to. The armor remained for some time afterwards, then began to fade, the claws following soon afterwards. Of course it all could return in an instant if she started getting nervous again.

She had better control over it now, but at first she’d been in a constant state of war with her own body. As soon as the panic rose up she would feel her skin begin to twitch, which would only make it worse, an endless, self-perpetuating cycle. At least she was getting better with it now, though she refused to practice despite Alex’s urging her to do so.

The first night had been an ordeal. Terrified that Alex would return she’d paced the apartment apart until day finally came and with it the realization that she was hungry. That was an understatement, she’d been ravenous.

Trying not to look at her hands, just in case she saw something there that she didn’t want to see, she had gone to the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal and ate it dry because there was no milk, there wouldn’t be unless Alex brought some and she had hoped that he never came back. She’d still been hungry afterwards, so she’d poured herself another and then another until her stomach hurt too much to keep eating. Even then she’d still felt hungry and out of sorts, so she lay down on the couch to try and rest. She wasn’t going back to the bedroom, not then and not ever. The last thing she needed was to see the sheets, ripped and stained with her own blood from when Alex had…

The thought had been enough to make the claws and armor come back, though she managed to distract herself by being violently ill. She’d barely made it to the bathroom in time and when it was all over she was hungry again. Since the cereal had made her sick she threw it out and made herself a tuna fish sandwich instead because it had been late enough in the day to have lunch and she’d felt like having a sandwich. Canned tuna had never been a favorite of hers, but it sat better in her stomach than the cereal had, so she had been willing to consider it a win. After eating she felt better for all of half an hour before she was hungry again and the cycle repeated itself until she ran out of canned tuna and tried a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

That had kept her full for a whole hour until she got sick again. From that point forward she’d torn the kitchen apart as she went from being ravenous and gorging herself until she was sick and back to being ravenous again.

Through trial and error she managed to figure out what sort of worked. Bread and macaroni didn’t fill her up and were more likely to make her sick faster than other foods. Canned vegetables and fruits would fill her up for a while, but she’d eventually get sick if she ate too much. Fresh fruit, in the form of a whole bag of oranges and half a bag of apples, gave her a horrible stomachache, but were otherwise about the same as canned fruits. And after that she ran out of fruit and was back to where she’d started, with nothing in the apartment that she could actually keep down.

The worst part about it was that, despite how tired she felt, she hadn’t been able to fall asleep. No matter how many times she lay down on the sofa and close her eyes, sleep never came.

When Alex finally showed up again she’d gone through everything and was more or less tearing the kitchen apart in the desperate hope that she’d find something because going outside and braving the monster infested streets was too much.

She’d yelled at him, meaning every word she’d said while simultaneously hoping that he’d somehow make everything right again because he was her big brother and that had been the way it had worked when they were kids. When he grabbed her in a hug she’d fought him, but at the same time it had been what she’d wanted. She cried and yelled at him some more, burying her face in his jacket and trying to pretend that maybe, just maybe things weren’t really that bad, maybe he could fix it all.

Then they’d argued some more and she chased him out of the apartment only for him to return a short time later.

“Come up to the roof,” he told her, sounding so excited and happy that the only appropriate response was to tell him to fuck off. How dare he be happy when she was starving to death and a monster, but mostly just starving to death?

Just like when they were kids, he refused to take no for an answer and grabbed her by the arm to pull her out of the apartment. She’d fought back, but it was so hard with how shitty she felt. Her fingers sort of lengthened into claws and she tried to scratch him. All he did was grab her other arm and pull her up against him when she let her feet go out from under her like she was a little kid throwing a tantrum. He held her against him in a crushing embrace, keeping her arms pinned to her sides so she was unable to do anything except…

He’d been so close and left her with no other choice.

She bit him.

It had been impossible to tell which of them had been more surprised when she actually managed to get through his jacket and break the skin. The look of sudden surprise he gave her had been what drove her to do it again and actually succeed in tearing a good sized chunk of flesh from the upper part of his arm.

He’d asked what she was doing, as though it wasn’t obvious and while he’d stared at her, trying to figure out what was going on she’d given him the most defiant look she could manage and…

Her intent had been to spit it back in his face, but it started to change in her mouth, melting and becoming a sticky mess like what he’d done to her. Without thinking she swallowed. What followed was mercifully a blur, though considering what had happened during Alex’s visits since then she’d managed to piece together a fairly good idea of it all.

He came nearly every day now whether she wanted him to or not. Tonight she didn’t want him to, except…

Footsteps in the hall came as a welcome distraction from her brooding.

“Hey Dana, it’s me,” Alex didn’t wait for her to invite him in before stepping into the apartment.

She made a point of not looking at him, pretending to be engrossed in her book.

From the corner of her eye she could see that he wasn’t wearing his jacket or hoodie this time. That was new and she didn’t like the implications. He’d already made it clear that he was able to take some pretty fucked up stuff in stride, but this should have been too much even for him.

So she kept staring at the same page she’d been staring at for the past hour and tried not to acknowledge that she’d been looking forward to his arrival. She was still mad at him, still hated him for what he’d done. Which might have been part of the reason why what was sure to follow was so easy for her. Despite what Alex might have thought it was still mostly her taking her anger out on him, mostly.

Telling herself that made it easier.

He sat down next to her and she drew her legs up, shifting to put what distance she could between the two of them.

The sofa wasn’t quite big enough and he was still able to put an arm over her shoulder.

Her response was to exhale sharply and look away so she wouldn’t have to see his face and how he was smiling. She didn’t have to look to know he was smiling and it pissed her off that he could accept everything, even this.

The problem was, even looking away, she could still feel his hand on her shoulder, the way he drummed his fingers against her. An older brother teasing his little sister, except they were both far too old for that sort of game now.

His fingers crept higher, brushing against her neck before tracing the line of her jaw. It was teasing, but also an invitation.

What would happen if she held out, refused to give him what he was after? If she waited long enough would he get bored and leave?

Except it wasn’t about what he wanted, it was about what she needed. She hadn’t been able to figure out what Alex got out of it and maybe she didn’t want to.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad you know,” he reassured, mistaking the reason for her hesitation.

Or maybe he knew full well and it was all part of the game he was playing.

His fingers brushed across her lips and she bared her teeth.

That was too much, too close.

“Don’t do that,” her words came out a hiss, spoken through clenched teeth.

His only response was to run a finger along her lower lip, his nail tapping gently against her teeth, daring her to tell him to stop again.

Did he actually think that it was easier this way?

The first time it had been in the heat of the moment, panic and then the realization that it actually tasted good. Except that wasn’t right, there had been no flavor, just an urgent need. She was starving and there was something she could actually eat and gain nourishment from.

And he’d let her.

When it was over and she realized what she’d done she’d been horrified, but Alex had just held her in another inescapable hug and told her that everything was alright, as though there was nothing wrong with what she’d just done. That was probably the worst part, that Alex didn’t seem upset, he just took it all in stride that time and every time since.

He ran a finger over her lips again, this time leaving behind an unexpected wetness. Without thinking she licked it away and grimaced when she realized that it had been blood, his blood because it was strange and bitter and filled her with a longing that was wrong in so many ways.

She turned to glare at him, intending to tell him off. Instead she watched as he ran his thumbnail across the pad of his finger and, before she could say anything, slid the bleeding digit into her mouth.

Reflexively she ran her tongue over it, feeling the sticky substance that she knew wasn’t really blood because Alex wasn’t human enough to actually bleed anymore. All his injuries healed near instantly, broken flesh knitted together by writhing things beneath. The injury was already healing, she could feel the squirming sensation in her mouth. Telling herself that she was doing it because she was angry at him for what he’d done to her, what he was still doing to her, she bit down as hard as she could.

Her teeth sank through flesh and hit bone. She was getting stronger every day, after every one of his visits she could feel it, but she still wasn’t quite able to break through bone. Maybe then he wouldn’t find his little game so fun anymore, but she doubted it. The day she finally managed to bite off one of his fingers he’d probably just smile at her, or laugh and encourage her to keep going. How was he able to act like it was all just harmless fun?

Jerking her head back she tried to push him away. His response was to grab her wrists and pull her in closer so that his face was inches from hers. She could feel his breath, hot and carrying on it a sickly sweet, vaguely rotten scent.

What had he become?

What was she becoming?

Resisting more to prove that she was able to, she pulled back with all her might.

She surprised herself with how much strength she was able to put into the effort and it must have surprised Alex as well, because she managed to pull him off the sofa. He kept holding on to her as they fell to the floor, landing hard enough to shake a haphazardly piled stack of books off the desk on the other side of the small room.

“I’m impressed,” he smiled at her, his sincerity somehow more disturbing than anything else about the situation, “You’re getting stronger.”

But she wasn’t strong enough.

He shifted and then his full weight was pressing down on her, impossibly heavy. She could actually feel her ribs creaking as air was forced from her lungs. Armor started to form on her chest, reinforcing her ribs, but it was too little too late for it to do any good there. It crept down her arms, carrying new mass to her hands, allowing her fingers to lengthen into claws.

“That’s better than last time,” he shifted his weight again, enough to allow her to breath, then he grabbed her by the wrist and twisted her hand to get a better look at her claws, “A lot better.”

Then his fingers began to twist and fuse, growing into a set of claws far larger and more deadly looking than what she’d managed. Effortlessly he forced her arm back down across her chest and pinned her to the floor again.

The way he was holding her meant that the arm he was using to keep her from getting up was inches from her face. She watched in horrified fascination as the black tendrils that made up his arm squirmed and flowed until they vanished, leaving behind smooth, ordinary looking skin.

Something was very wrong about the situation, even more wrong than it had been to start with, which wasn’t easy. It took her far longer than it should have to figure exactly what it was, but when she did she wasn’t sure if she was more disgusted with Alex for doing something like this to her, or herself for ending up in the situation in the first place. Somehow his shirt was gone and he seemed oblivious to the implications.

Was that even possible? He was shirtless, on top of her and pinning her to the floor, but he was smiling at her like this was some playful wrestling match like they would have had back when they were little kids. How could he not realize what it looked like?

“Get off of me,” she squirmed and struggled beneath him, trying not to think too much about the situation.

“Make me,” he laughed, and adjusted his grip slightly, bringing his arm even closer to her face in an obvious invitation.

Furious with herself for giving in so easily, she obliged, lifting her head as much as she could and sank her teeth deep into the meat of his forearm. He didn’t wince or make any sound, his expression never changed as she pulled her head back and swallowed before it got the chance to melt and start moving in her mouth. The injury was healing as she watched, just like always, but she didn’t wait for the ragged edges of the wound to close before biting him again.

The sticky, not quite blood was hot against her lips, moving and squirming away before it got the chance to cool on her face.

Horrible as it might have been, it was made better by how clean it was, practically bloodless since he healed so fast. As quickly as she was able to inflict damage, his body was able to repair itself and through it all he smiled at her, gentle and encouraging.

There was an exchange of some sort taking place and it went two ways. She wasn’t sure what he got out of it, but he seemed to enjoy it. There was clearly more to it than just her eating and him feeding her, but she couldn’t figure out what it was yet. All she knew was that he treated it like a game and despite her best efforts, she was starting to play along. It wasn’t just satisfying her hunger or the feeling of strength that filled her afterwards, it was a sense of connection, like reaching out to like and making contact in a way that was fundamentally unique.

He let her get three more good bites in before he moved, bringing his arm out of range. She wasn’t done yet, hadn’t eaten her fill.

“What now?” he teased.

The idea came to her as though he’d suggested it. With a thought her arms began to shift, the process happening much faster and feeling less strange that it had previously, and her claws lengthened further, small spines rising up along her wrists and forearms, forcing him to let go. The way he half sat up gave her just enough space to move her legs up and kick him away. It also gave her the perfect chance to get away, but instead she followed through, slamming into his chest with the intent to knock him backwards. He managed to brace himself for the impact, so it was like hitting a brick wall, but for the first time she felt the wall shift ever so slightly.

Grinning triumphantly, she lunged in and sank her teeth into his throat. She heard him gasp and felt his hands on her shoulders, trying to push her away. Twisting her head violently, she struggled to maintain her grip as he attempted to heal around her teeth. She pressed her tongue against the wound, lapping up the squirming blood, before he finally pushed her roughly away.

He’d been holding back, but she still bumped into the sofa hard enough to knock it back a few feet.

By the time she was standing again he was as well, ready for whatever she might try. The look on his face was one of pure innocence and it made her stomach churn. He really didn’t know, to him it really was just a stupid, childish game. They were just brother and sister, wrestling and play fighting like little kids, she was the one reading too much into things, making it all feel so terribly wrong.

She hated him for it.

“You’re getting better,” he rubbed at his neck with one hand, even though the wound was already gone. His other hand was shifting, the whole side of his body squirming as mass redistributed itself to shape his arm into a massive blade.

That was something she’d never seen before, at least not in person. Before she could respond he had closed the distance between them and struck her with the blade. Again he held back, giving her a swat with the flat of the blade, rather than striking her with the edge. She still felt something shatter in her chest and fell to the floor, struggling to breathe as her ribs creaked and popped themselves back into place.

A moment later she was fully healed, only the memory of the pain remaining.

“You try,” he gestured with his bladed arm, making it clear that he expected her to figure out how to do the same thing.

She wasn’t going to, and if she could help it, she never would. The claws were bad enough, she had no desire to learn more about what they were. If not for the fact that she was still hungry she would have called it quits then and there.

Keeping out of range she carefully stepped to the side, trying to get around him to an angle where the blade wouldn’t be between them. They circled warily as she waited for him to let down his guard, which he did. He raised his blade high and stepped in to strike, moving slow enough that she was able to duck under the swing and grab him.

Turning her head to the side she bit into his bicep, right where normal skin gave way to twisting strands of organic armor. Wrapping her arms around him she dug her claws in and clung to him. She could feel him shifting in her grip, muscles writhing and settling back into place as his blade melted away, back into a normal arm. Through it all she kept biting and tearing, actually managing to pull several large chunks away when they rose up during his change. It was the most she’d managed to get at once.

She continued her assault, her teeth actually scraping against bone by the time he managed to get a hand against her face. Slipping his fingers up around her chin he squeezed at the corners of her mouth, hard. He’d must have decided that the game was over because he was no longer holding back. She could feel the bones of her jaw creaking from the pressure.

As soon as she let go and stepped back he was smiling again.

“I’m impressed, really. You actually caught me off guard there,” he laughed like it was all some silly game, that she hadn’t been tearing him to pieces. His smile faltered for a moment when he looked around the apartment and saw the fallen books and the sofa backed up against the wall, “Next time maybe we should take it outside though. Then you can practice with the blade too.”

And having said that he turned and left. She didn’t follow him or attempt to say anything because there was nothing to say. There was going to be a next time because he’d said as much and she was going to look forward to it and hate herself for it, because despite everything when she was caught up in the heat of the moment she enjoyed it, maybe not in the same way as Alex did, but she still did.

Until then all there was for her to do was wait for his next visit and think and there was plenty for her to think about, whether she liked it or not. One thing to consider was that she now knew how to shift one of her arms into a blade. Somehow he was teaching her things through their interactions, and not just by example. When they were done she knew things that she hadn’t before, not just about what she was capable of, but other things, disturbing little inklings that would have kept her up late into the night even if she’d still been able to sleep. There was some sort of exchange taking place during the play fighting and she was sure it went both ways.

The question was, what was Alex getting out of it?

No, she realized, the real question was did she want to know what Alex was getting out of it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to get this up. My other writing projects ended up taking up more time than I anticipated. That and I've found a few other pieces of Prototype related work that could stand to be tidied up and posted. Hope you all like this one.


	4. A Family Meal

To give herself something to do she’d taken to exploring the rest of the apartment building that Alex had her hiding in. There was no real purpose to it, just a way to alleviate boredom and give herself something to think about. Anything was better than sitting and waiting and thinking. The way things were she was better off doing everything she could to avoid thinking.

Alex had stopped by that morning to let her know that he had an idea, something that was sure to help. What it was and how it would help hadn’t been mentioned, but he’d said it with a smile.

That right there was a lot to avoid thinking about.

Not thinking would have been a lot easier if she’d had internet, but with no power there was no internet. It would have been easier if she’d had something to read, but she’d had to abandon most of her books when she moved to the safe house and after… After what had happened there she’d lost everything else.

The apartment he’d brought her to had some stuff to read, mostly mysteries and a few romance novels, but nothing that could hold her interest, nothing to distract her.

That was what she was looking for, books.

Not food, never food.

She’d tried again and again and gotten sick each time. It left her entirely dependent on Alex. Without him she had no clue how she’d survive and that terrified her almost as much as what she’d become.

He had an idea, one he thought would help.

Hadn’t he helped enough already?

She wanted to hate him for what he’d done, but she couldn’t. Not when there was a chance that he might vanish again, leaving her alone and, unlike the first time, unable to survive.

He had an idea and that terrified her.

So she was willing to wander around in the dark, breaking into the abandoned homes of dead people. Because that was better than waiting and wondering what his idea was.

He’d been so happy when he told her it, smiling like she couldn’t ever remember him doing. She’d been afraid to press him for details and all he’d said was that it would make things easier for her to deal with.

Somehow she doubted that.

So far the most unpleasant thing she’d found in an apartment was a dead body. Suicide or the virus, they were too long gone to know for sure.

The smell should have given it away before she even opened the door, far worse than rotten food, but it didn’t smell like she expected a body to. Looking back, she had no clue what she’d expected a body to smell like, worse she supposed.

She’d run gagging from the apartment, mostly because there’d been nothing interesting inside. If there had been she had the figured that she would have found a way to brave the smell and poke around a bit.

The possibility that Alex might return while she was out was a good motivator to keep looking. If she wasn’t there maybe he’d leave and come back later. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Because as much as it was about avoiding him, it was also about testing herself. She resented him, wanted to hate him, but she also looked forward to his visits.

That right there terrified her. Their interactions were some sort of exchange and she enjoyed it. She didn’t want to, but she did.

He said that he had an idea to help her and as little as she liked to admit it she was curious.

Not just curious, hopeful.

And that terrified her.

Even though it was starting to get dark she kept looking, telling herself just one more apartment and then she’d turn back. The dark wasn’t that much of a problem, not anymore. Somewhere along the line her vision had started improving to the point where anything short of total darkness wasn’t too much of a problem, which was a problem in and of itself because it got her thinking.

What exactly was Alex?

What was she?

She’d keep going until she finished this floor at least. Being systematic helped, made it feel like progress even though she hadn’t found anything worthwhile so far. Plenty of food she couldn’t eat, a few changes of clothing that fit her perfectly even if the style left something to be desired, some books that she might read if she were desperate enough, and that was it.

There were two more apartments and she wasn’t getting her hopes up.

The door to the first was locked, but that didn’t stop her.

She was stronger than she’d been, her ‘fights’ with Alex proved that, and breaking down a door wasn’t that much trouble for her. She didn’t like doing it because it fell into the ever growing category of things that she didn’t want to think about, but she wasn’t going to skip a door just in case it was the one. Wondering about it would drive her crazy.

By this point she’d broken down enough doors that she had a feel for it, knew where to kick to avoid slipping and falling on her ass.

Two kicks and the door bent in the frame, swinging open as the knob broke.

Jackpot.

The walls were lined with bookshelves, enough that quantity alone meant that there had to be something.

And boy was there ever.

The first few books she looked at were nothing special, a lot of historical romances and some nonfiction stuff, but there was a bunch of hardcover books on one of the shelves, a fairly impressive collection of stories by Jane Austen.

Ever since high school Jane Austen had been a guilty pleasure of hers, she’d read two copies of _Persuasion_ to tatters and could probably recite a good half of _Sense and Sensibility_ by heart. She started to grab the books off the shelf, thinking that she’d take as many of them back with her as possible, then thought better of it.

When Alex came to visit things tended to get broken and the last thing she wanted to do was risk damaging books that she actually wanted to read, books that she might never be able to get her hands on a copy of again. She’d leave them where they were and come back when she needed to read.

It would be her way of escaping, a safe place away from the mess that everything had become.

Carefully putting the books back she left the room, making her way back to her apartment. Little as she wanted to admit it, she was starting to get hungry, not enough that she was starting to look forward to Alex showing up, but enough so that she was aware of it.

Having the books, knowing that they were there waiting for her made all the difference in the world.

It was enough that when she heard the sound of Alex approaching, hurried footsteps in the hall, she didn’t feel that awful.

Alex rushed through the door, all smiles and excitement.

“You’ve got to hurry, before it dies or gets away!”

And here she’d been expecting that things were going to play out the usual way, managed to resign herself to what she’d been convinced would come.

Alex and his plans.

She was going to need those books so badly tonight.

When she was too slow for him he grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her to the door. She knew exactly how things would turn out if she tried to fight him so she didn’t bother.

That changed when she realized where he was taking her.

To the roof.

She’d never been afraid of heights before, but after what had happened things had changed.

Alex was her brother, he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. In his own way he cared about her, that much she knew without a doubt, but that meant nothing in the light of what he’d done, what he was capable of doing.

“Alex,” she tried to pull free from his grip, willing her hands not to start turning into claws. She could feel the squirming, the feeling of looseness starting as things began to slide around, “What are you doing? What’s up there?”

And why couldn’t he show her inside?

That was the real question, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t it happen some place safe instead of on the roof?

“It’s easier to show you than it is to explain.”

He laughed.

Nervously.

Red and black tendrils rose up along her arms, sliding into place as her fingers began to lengthen, claws emerging from the flowing strands, “Explain what?”

Maybe she could get one good hit in. Maybe that was all she’d need. Aim for the crook of his arm, try to get it in just the right place and she wouldn’t have to worry about getting through bone. She could sever his arm at the elbow and then make a run for it. The blade would be better for that.

More movement, claws began to fuse, lengthening further. Mass redistributed itself to allow for the considerably more drastic changes taking place. The greater weight of the blade, the momentum she could get with it made severing limbs that much easier.

She knew this because Alex had told her, because he’d shown her, not through an actual demonstration, but through the times he fed her. The same way he taught her to change herself he showed her how to use those changes.

Wouldn’t he be surprised if she used what he taught her for something like that?

Yes, yes he would, but how would he respond?

He looked at her, smiled when he saw the rapidly forming bone blade, the way she was holding her arm, ready to strike the second the squirming stopped and it was fully hardened.

She knew exactly how he’d respond.

He’d laugh and tackle her to the ground or bash her to the side with an armored shield that had formed faster than she could follow, smiling the whole time while he wrestled her and she clawed at him. He though it was funny, the way she struggled.

No, he thought it was fun, encouraged it.

“You’re doing good,” he shifted his grip on her arm, forcing her to turn so he could get a better look at the blade, “This time was a lot faster than last time. Have you been practicing?”

“No,” she snapped. She hadn’t been practicing and never would. Everything about it disgusted her. How he was able to treat all of it like it was no big deal was beyond her. All she knew was that she didn’t want to know, “Let go of me.”

To her surprise he did just that.

Caught off guard she stumbled, nearly fell down the stairs before she was able to recover, but she did manage to recover. In the past she’d never been that graceful, but between her little ‘wrestling matches’ with Alex and whatever else it was that he was doing to her, she’d started getting better at reacting to the sorts of things he would do.

She lunged at him, blade outstretched.

A stupid thing to do, she realized as he effortlessly sidestepped, grabbing her by the arm and used her momentum to throw her the rest of the way up the flight of stairs. He followed up by charging and slamming into her hard enough to send her staggering, scrambling backwards to avoid being hit by the considerably larger blade he’d turned his arm into.

Her own blade melted, splitting back into claws.

Trying what she’d attempted had been stupid, she wasn’t used to the weight of it and it had thrown her off balance. With claws at least she knew she could injure him, mostly through random flailing and luck, but she was willing to take what she could.

He kept pressing forward, bringing his other arm up to block her attempt at clawing him across the face before slamming his blade down into the stairs inches from where she’d been seconds before.

If that attack had hit it would have killed her.

She kept moving backwards, clawing him when she could, but otherwise managing a steady retreat up flight after flight of stairs.

Any time she tried to get around him he’d smack her in the head or across the stomach with the flat of his blade or grab her by the shoulder with his free and toss her up another few steps.

“Come on, keep trying,” he laughed when her claws raked across the side of his face, drawing blood, “Let’s see if you can do that again.”

By the time he finished talking the injuries were already healed and he was coming at her again.

He was trying to get her worked up, make her lose track of what she was doing. Then he’d lean in close and grapple her, pin her arms at her sides and hold her in place until she got desperate enough to…

Her back hit the door to the roof.

She was trapped, he was going to pin her up against the door. Desperate, she tried to will her arm to become a blade again, only for Alex to shove her out of the way, open the door and toss her outside.

She tumbled, rolled and struggled to her hands and knees, cuts and scrapes healing before they even had the chance to bleed.

It was dark out, darker than she ever remembered it being thanks to the power still being out in the area around the building. That actually helped, making it harder to see how high up she was, how far she’d fall if Alex got careless or she lost track of what she was doing.

“Look,” Alex beamed, pointing at something behind her, “I figured you might want to start eating on your own. After that we can…”

He trailed off with a shrug. There was something else he wanted to say, something that, for once, he realized that she wasn’t going to like.

She stared at the…thing he was pointing at. It had to have been person at one point, but now it was little more than a roughly human shaped lump of tumors. Blunt claws scraped at the roof as it struggled to pull itself free from the pieces of rebar that Alex had found somewhere and used to pin it to the roof. The scratches its attempts had left behind were proof that, mess that it was, it was far from dead.

Alex had caught a monster and expected her to eat it.

From the look on his face it was obvious he had no idea how fucked up that was. From the start he’d had no idea about how fucked up any of it was. He just treated everything like it was perfectly normal. She wanted to scream at him for it, rush him and shove him off the roof. He’d survive, she’d seen videos on the internet, but maybe then he’d get the hint. Except she was too afraid to move.

What if she fell?

What if he grabbed her and pulled her down with him?

She might die from the impact, but even worse was the thought the possibility that she might not. There were times when Alex got too rough with his playing, she’d felt broken bones grind against each other, knitting themselves back together in minutes, watched as gashes in her arms and chest flowed closed, leaving behind no trace of injury.

It wasn’t that she wanted to die, to the contrary, the thought terrified her, but surviving something like that would be yet another sign of what was happening to her, what Alex was doing to her. Every time they interacted it got worse, she knew more things that she shouldn’t, got better at shifting her hands into weapons, felt less disgust at the process. She was almost starting to look forward to his visits, the chance to test herself against him, see the progress she was making. His enjoyment was…contagious.

When she remained frozen in place Alex grabbed her, picked her up and started carrying her over to the thing.

She thrashed and clawed wildly, nails and then claws skidding uselessly against armor.

How did he do it?

How long would it be before she knew?

The infected thing took a swipe at him and he casually stomped down on its arm. Dana heard the familiar sound of bones snapping. Alex had barely even exerted himself. The amount of restraint he showed with her while she went all out fighting him horrified her.

He held her down next to the thing.

“Go on,” he coaxed gently.

What did he expect her to do? Start tearing into the thing like an animal? Like she did with him?

She shook her head violently, keeping her mouth tightly shut. There was no way in hell she was going to eat it. Just the thought made her sick to her stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

She’d tell him exactly what was wrong if not for how badly her stomach was churning. The moment she opened her mouth she was sure to be sick.

The stink of the thing…wasn’t quite as bad as the dead body she’d found, was nowhere near the memory of the nightmare of red that she’d woken up into before Alex rescued her from Greene.

It smelled like rot and cancer, but it a way that she was used to because it was almost like the way Alex smelled.

“You’ve almost got it,” Alex urged, giving her a little shake, “Any second now.”

She tried to push away from the thing, slipped and ended up putting her hand down on it. The thing was feverishly warm, wet and sticky to the touch.

Opening her mouth to scream she gagged and began to dry heave, her guts feeling like they were trying to fight their way up her throat.

“Keep trying.”

Then he shoved her down onto the infected.

It let out a wet gasp and began to growl like a wild animal, the featureless lump that was its head splitting into a gaping mouth, ringed with fangs that grew in all directions. Twisting against tre rebar, it tried to bite her.

Desperate to get away she started clawing at the thing.

“No, not like that, you’ll kill it,” he sounded confused of all things, “Let me show you.”

She expected him to let go of her, to demonstrate how to eat monsters. Instead she could feel him shifting behind her, tendrils slid down past her, brushing against her as they dug into the infected.

She started screaming.

More tendrils now, writhing against her back.

Not this.

Not again.

Her screams grew louder when the first of them pierced her flesh, working its way down. She could actually feel it twisting inside her, digging deeper and deeper until it managed to go straight through her. Others followed, tying her to Alex, to the infected.

The agony was unbearable.

Alex exhaled in a sharp hiss and pulled back, the tendrils between them stretching taunt, lifting her slightly.

What was he doing? Was he letting go? Giving up? Killing her?

No.

His hands shifted to claws, mirroring hers, and he cut through the tendrils connecting him to her and the infected with a single clean swipe.

She fell back down, the writhing tendrils still binding her to the infected. Its movements were growing sluggish. The pain she felt was fading replaced by something utterly alien.

The tendrils were a part of her now, squirming through the infected, breaking it apart and drawing back into her. Extending and retracting, they made bits of the infected into bits of themselves and faded back into her, only for new ones to grow to replace them, repeating the process until finally it was over.

The infected’s upper body was eaten away, twisted ribs jutted over a pool of muck, muscle and organs missing, carved out.

Shaking, she crawled away from what was left of the thing, trying to process what had just happened.

She’d been hungry earlier.

Now she wasn’t.

It was different than when Alex fed her. She was full, but nothing new was there in her mind, no strange thoughts or awareness of new things.

Unless she wanted to count the way that she was certain that she was capable of repeating what had just happened with the tendrils on her own.

So she had two ways of eating now. Letting Alex feed her and eating what he brought.

She wasn’t sure which was worse.

Alex walked over next to her, “Not bad. It took longer than I expected so you’ll have to be careful if you go out hunting on your own. I don’t think you’d be able to recover while fighting.”

She wasn’t going to even try and figure out what he meant by that. She wasn’t going to hunt or fight anything so the rest was meaningless.

He offered her a hand to help her up and she batted it away.

Rising shakily to her feet she ignored Alex and headed for the door.

He was talking to her, but she wasn’t listening.

She knew exactly what she was going to do.

Get a flashlight and go to the apartment with the books and read until it was light out again and she could tell herself that it was just another nightmare.

But first she had to clean up.

Her clothing was shredded from the tendrils and covered in filth from the monster, but her hands, now normal and human, were perfectly clean.

The mess was only on her clothing.

Yes, reading seemed like a good idea for the night.

In the day she’d see about finding a notebook or some paper or something and start writing again. That might help.

She couldn’t sleep anymore, but she could write and let that replace dreams, distract her from the nightmare she was stuck living in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed another one thanks to HostisHumaniGeneris. Their stuff is great and you should totally check it out.


	5. Struggle

Hands shaking, Dana put the book she was reading down. She could hear movement. Or not exactly hear it, feel it maybe?

She didn’t know how it worked, all she knew was that when Alex arrived she knew it as soon as he hit the roof. It was a new thing, something she hadn’t noticed enough to make sense of in the beginning. There would be times when she would get anxious or excited or hungry, at least what passed for hungry now, without knowing or understanding the reason why. Then a few minutes later Alex would show up.

She could sense him, somehow.

It was yet another sign of what was happening to her and she didn’t like it.

But at least it gave her some warning.

Some way to prepare herself.

Hiding was tempting, but what if the connection worked two ways?

Even if it didn’t where would she go?

She was trapped in the building, surrounded by monsters and if she made it past the walkers there was still the military and Blackwatch to contend with. Alex could get past them, but he was whatever he was.

On the other hand she…

She looked at her hands, saw her fingers starting to twitch and extend into claws.

The way things were now she could probably hold her own against one or two walkers. He’d taught her how to fight by example and through whatever it was that he was doing to her. They’d spar, as he called it, and when it was over she’d know things.

Sooner or later she’d have to put what she’d learned to use. Alex had said that he was going to stop breaking their necks or pinning them to the roof before giving them to her, that eventually she needed to test her abilities and a walker would by the prefect way to do it. It would be her first step towards learning how to hunt for herself and eventually defending herself.

The thought was enough for her fingers to finish becoming claws and her skin to transform to black armor up to her shoulders. The shirt she was wearing caught on the little spikes that were forming.

She had to calm down or she’d ruin another outfit and she was starting to run low on shirts that she actually liked the look of.

Alex was getting closer.

First things first she had to get away, from here at least.

Hurrying out of the apartment where she’d found all the books she locked the door behind her. No one was going to come in and harm anything, but locking it made her feel better.

The apartment was her place to go to be safe, to read and get away from what she was.

From what Alex was making her into.

Down the hall.

Up the stairs.

She had to be as far away from that particular apartment as possible when she met Alex. He could never find her there, because then she might yell at him, he might not understand why she was mad. She might lose her temper, try to force him to leave, yell at him. It might turn into a shoving match and get worse from there.

Because even if Alex was willfully blind to it, things were getting worse. With the city, with her, with everything.

Then they might fight.

And if they fought things would get broken.

So she had to keep him away from the apartment with the books at all costs.

Because it wasn’t just books anymore. She’d started bringing other things there, her extra laptop, spare sets of clothing, notebooks where she wrote out her own ideas for stories, mostly trash that she wrote down only because no one would ever see it, a backpack full of supplies in case she ever got up the nerve to try running, other little things that she didn’t want to risk him finding or getting broken.

She met Alex in the stairs.

He was smiling.

That was never a good thing.

Never.

“I’ve figured it out,” he said and the smile fell, “I’ve got a plan for us to get out of the city, but I’m not sure if it’ll work. We need to test something, but don’t worry, I’ve got that set up at least. It wasn’t easy, but…”

He trailed off, shrugged.

That was what he did when it was something he knew she wasn’t going to agree to. He could force her to do things, but he didn’t like it. What was he going to force her to do today and how much of a fight was it worth?

“What?” she looked at him, keeping a flight of stairs between them.

No distance at all. He could jump down to where she was effortlessly and she still wasn’t ready to try something like that for herself, even though he’d accidentally thrown her down multiple flights of stairs before. Each time she’d been fine. The last time she hadn’t even broken any bones.

That had frightened her. It wasn’t that she wanted anymore broken bones or the pain that came with them, but if was horrifying that she could survive a fall like that without injury.

And she didn’t like falling.

It reminded her too much of…

Of things that she didn’t want to remember.

“Follow me to the roof,” he said, not making eye contact.

The roof.

That was where everything bad happened.

Bad things could happen anywhere, but good things never happened on the roof.

Lately it had been zombies, he’d leave them injured too badly to move so she would have food.

Eating wasn’t getting much easier for her, but she could do it on her own now, without his help.

Because his help made it so much worse.

This was different though, this was something he was unsure about.

That wasn’t good.

Nothing with Alex was ever good, not anymore, but this was different.

Did she want to fight him?

Yes, on some level she obviously did because the armor was still spreading. She could feel it creeping up her throat, down across her ribs. Her shirt was a lost cause, spines on her shoulders and along her collar bone had poked through it. As it wrapped around her back, accentuating the ridge of her spine, providing anchoring points for far larger spikes and heavy plates of hardened armor, she shuddered at the feel of it. Her skin didn’t move the same way, thick, leathery patches sliding against each other. It was unnatural, but at the same time she was getting used to it. The claws hardly felt strange anymore and if she wanted to she could fuse them into a single blade, just like Alex did.

She was getting better at doing the sorts of things he did.

For now she wasn’t going to fight him.

“Let’s get it over with,” she said softly, looking at the floor, trying not to get caught up in his nervousness and excitement. He was hopeful, but at the same time there was a concern that something might go wrong.

At this stage of things that was especially frightening.

It had been a long time since he had directly worried about her.

Recently it was about how well she was doing, how strong she was getting, how it was easier for her to do what he’d taught her. It was easier.

He didn’t even need to force feed her anymore, though when he sparred with her he’d still do it, because he liked it for some reason. Liked it when she clawed at him, bit him, tore chunks out of him and…

It hurt him, but it connected him to her on some level, brought them closer than was right or natural. She hated it when she thought about it, but when it happened, when she was caught up in the moment, she could almost feel what he felt, almost understand the connection he was seeking.

Blackwatch believed that the infected had a hivemind and if that were the case then there was something similar between her and Alex now, something that she fought with all her might, something that was stronger when she was in direct contact with him.

He could tolerate the pain of her trying to rip his throat out for the sake of that connection.

That was what he got out of it, that and more.

He was her brother and he was making sure it stayed that way, reinforcing their bond, shaping her into something that could truly be a sister to something like him.

And he was doing it all wrong, just like everything else he’d done since returning. He meant well, she was sure of it, but that did nothing to change what was happening.

She followed him to the roof, trailing behind, but not so far that he might decide to help her along.

He was worried and that worried her.

Faint moaning on the roof.

It wasn’t a zombie.

She looked at him.

He shrugged, “I figured out a way for us to get out of the quarantine zone.”

And it had something to do with whatever was on the roof.

The door was broken, hanging bent on its hinges. That had happened during one of his last few visits where the zombie he’d brought had been more heavily mutated than usual, gotten free and charged her. She’d run into the door trying to get away from it, run into the door hard enough to dent the metal and bounce back. The zombie had grabbed her and she’d fought back, instincts taking over. Once it was hurt badly enough the tendrils had come and things had gotten messy.

This wasn’t a zombie though.

The man was Blackwatch, the uniform and gasmask were unmistakable, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a twinge of sympathetic pain at the sight of him lying there. Both his legs and maybe one of his arms had been broken, injuries she was too familiar with. She knew how that felt. He wasn’t in very good shape, his breathing was labored.

“What’s he going to do for us?” Torn between looking at the man and Alex for her answers she compromised, staring at her feet instead. There was blood on her shoes, just a few splatters dried to brown, but she couldn’t remember how or when it had gotten there. Once this, whatever this was, was over with she was going to have to throw out her shoes and find another pair. It would give her something to do, so it wasn’t that bad. She needed more distractions.

“You’re going to need a disguise if we’re going to get out of here and no one questions Blackwatch. Besides, their uniforms are all the same, no rank, nothing to identify them and the gasmasks mean that no one will know who they saw or it they were supposed to be there in the first place. It’ll be easy.”

She looked at him, looked at the Blackwatch soldier, swore under her breath, “Christ Alex, what the hell is wrong with you? You really think that’s going to work? It’s not and do you even realize how stupid it is? The guy is at least a foot taller than me so I can’t wear his stuff and even then, you could have brought a uniform. If you could grab a guy then getting just some clothes should be easy.”

He laughed, but his smile quickly fell when she continued to glare at him, “Right, you’re still getting used to things. I’d figured it would be obvious, but…”

Alex trailed off, looked at her nervously.

It was slowly falling into place.

He’d brought the man to the roof, just like he did with the walkers he brought for her to eat.

“No,” she crossed her arms over her chest and took a step backwards towards the door.

There was enough space between them that if she ran she could make it inside and start down the stairs before he closed the distance. When he caught her she’d fight and that might be enough to distract him.

“It’s easy, just like with the walkers,” he reassured.

For him maybe, but never for her. She wanted to run away, but there was nowhere she could go. The city was full of things that could kill her effortlessly and there was nowhere she could hide that Alex couldn’t find her.

Besides, Alex was persistent. If she refused, managed to avoid it this time he’d keep at it until she gave in. That was what he’d been doing this whole time, working at her bit by bit, teaching her how to do the unthinkable. The walkers didn’t even bother her that much anymore.

But this was different.

She needed to try something different, otherwise the outcome would be the same as it always was, as it always had been. Alex would get his way.

He was different enough though, changed from what heh ad been enough that she might be able to reason her way out of the situation, argue with him and convince him that what he wanted wasn’t an option.

“I can’t do it Alex,” she looked him in the eye when she spoke, finding so much more emotion there than when they had been children together. The concern, worry, hurt, was something she could feel, “I can’t kill a person, even some Blackwatch goon.”

“He’s going to die from his injuries anyway,” Alex looked away for an instant, the first sign of real weakness she’d ever seen in him, “It would be a waste not to.”

That was honestly the sort of logic she’d expect to hear from him.

She stood firm, refusing to look away like she would have when they were kids, “You’re going to have to think of something else.”

“This is the best way out of Manhattan, the safest. Any other way and Blackwatch will know, they’ll come look for us,” he looked at the Blackwatch soldier, who had stopped moaning by this point. The man was still breathing though, harsh and labored, “This isn’t something that I can do for you. You’ll get used to it.”

That was easily one of the most frightening things that he could have said, that she’d get used to killing people. If he’d said that she’d get over it that would have been one thing, that eventually she’d get over the horror of what she’d done just like she was slowly adapting to what she’d become.

The claws and armor spreading up her arms, across her chest and back were unpleasant to look at, but they no longer terrified her quite as much, the sight of them didn’t make her sick to her stomach. If she were to calm down she’d be able to make them go away without any trouble.

She couldn’t calm down though, not when Alex had so casually implied that the Blackwatch soldier would be the first person that she killed and that there would be others. With everything that he’d done to her, with how she was changing, she was desperate to hold onto what little she had left.

“If you try to make me do it I’ll kill myself.”

It was an empty threat and Alex knew it the instant the words left her mouth.

“How?” He looked genuinely confused, like she was making a joke that he just couldn’t wrap his head around.

With all that she’d survived it might as well have been a joke. One time, when trying to teach her how to properly fuse her claws into a blade and then attack with it she’d been a little too slow dodging when he demonstrated, or maybe he’d just gotten tired of holding back. Whatever the reason the swing had actually connected, catching her across the stomach. The strike had disemboweled her, giving her a good look at things that things that she shouldn’t have ever seen. Twisting loops of something the wrong color to be intestines had spilled out and almost immediately started writhing and pulling their way back into her.

She’d watched her own guts pull their way back inside her, been tossed down multiple flights of stairs, had her ribs crushed, arms broken, clawed all the way to the bone and been on the receiving end of a number of other injuries that should have been fatal. None of them had taken much more than a few minutes to heal, quicker when Alex provided her with something to eat.

There were times that she got the feeling that Alex was testing her, or maybe trying to show her that she could take a lot more damage than she thought she could. Either way it raised the disturbing question of exactly how much damage it would take to actually kill her.

If she ran past Alex and jumped off the roof would she survive?

It was something that Alex did all the time.

In the end the dilemma solved itself when the Blackwatch soldier died on how own from his injuries.

Alex looked at the body and shook his head, “Fine, that can wait. We can do something else in the meantime.”

“No killing anyone,” she said quickly, wondering if for the first time ever she had actually won an argument with Alex.

“No killing anyone,” he agreed, starting to walk towards her, “You still need to eat though so I figure I’ll take you hunting. You’re too slow, but maybe having to do it during a fight will help.”

He walked past her and into the building because he knew that there was no way in hell that she’d follow him if he jumped off the roof.

He’d tried it once before and she’d just gone back inside.

There might come a time that he might try to make her, but for now he was content to use the stairs and wait for her to follow.

It was tempting not to, but that would mean that she’d have to stay of the roof with a dead body.

Overhead crows were already circling, waiting for her to leave.

They’d gotten big, nasty, since the outbreak had happened and she had no desire to end up facing a flock of them.

Besides, she was hungry.

Even when you won an argument with Alex you still lost, that was something she should have remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I've got no idea where I'm going with this and am just writing ideas as they come to me.


End file.
